Hope For the Hopeless
by partypantscuddy
Summary: Uhm so this is a late Christmas present for paramorefreak24 and I'm not good at summaries.


_HAPPY NEW YEAR/MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS KATE (paramorefreak24)! I tried, I swear I did! I'm sorry it's so bad. :( BUT I LOVE YOU AND I HOPE 2013 IS GREAT TO YOU._

* * *

"What the _hell_ are you doing on my doorstep? Do I need to call the police? Did you not read the police reports from when you DROVE YOUR CAR THROUGH MY DINING ROOM? If you didn't, I clearly stated that if you ever stepped foot near me again, I would call the police, and that's exactly what I intend to do."

She turned away from the door, intent on shutting it in his face and froze when she felt his fingers around her wrist.

"Let go of me." She hissed. Cuddy gave him a split second to release her, whipping around and slapping him across the face when he didn't. She watched his shock for a brief moment before slamming the door in his face.

He rubbed at his jaw in complete shock and disbelief at what had just occurred. He had _never _seen her act so aggressively towards someone. The Cuddy he knew would find a passive way to blow off her steam. Then again, this wasn't the Cuddy he knew and still loved. The woman he had just seen was nothing of the woman he once knew. She was cold, her grey eyes dull and icy, and there was no one to blame but himself for that.

He pulled out an envelope from his pocket and slipped it under the door, before turning and walking away.

She waited an hour before walking back to the door and peering through one of the side panels, finding him nowhere in sight. She felt relieved for the most part. A small part of her felt unease at his disappearance. More unease than she had felt when she had opened her door to find him there.

She took a step away from the door, feeling something beneath her foot and looking down at the ground. It was a white envelope, with her name written across the front in a neat cursive hand that could only be one person's.

Wilson.

She sighed, reaching down to pick up the envelope and sitting cross legged on the floor. She took a deep breath before tearing it open.

"_Dear Cuddy,_

_Do you remember how several months ago I called you and told you I had cancer and only had five months to live? Of course you do, I heard your phone hit the ground as soon as what I said had processed. If you're reading this, it's been five months. I'm probably dead. You've probably already gone to my funeral. I'm sorry I'm forcing you to see him again, but I'm really not sorry. I know you probably saw him at my funeral lurking in the background. I asked him to give you this because I need one last favor from you, and that involves him. I need you to check on him, just one last time. Just to make sure he's ok…As ok as he could ever be. He has no one now Cuddy…I was the last one he had. Everyone else thinks he's dead, but you know he's not because I told you he wasn't after your flight was delayed and you felt terrible for having missed his funeral. I know you still care about him; if you didn't you wouldn't have even attempted to make it to his funeral."_

She stopped reading for a moment, her heart heavy, not knowing if she would be able to continue reading. She had been denying her feelings since she had left Princeton and relocated to Manhattan. She was still loved House, even though what he had done was insane. She couldn't allow herself to let the worst moment in their relationship over shadow the good ones. There were so many moments that she often thought of, triggered my little things in her new home. There were toys Rachel loved that reminded her of the first time her daughter had climbed into House's lap and how his reaction had surprised her. She had kept her favorite shirt of his, hating herself for not being able to completely allow herself to let go of him.

She sighed, taking the letter and moving to a more comfortable place in her home. She moved to the living room and dropped onto the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest. She took a deep breath before continuing the letter.

"_He's not the same person he was the last time you saw him. He's…different in some ways. He's sorry. Just see him one last time and make sure he's okay for me. That's all I'm asking from you. Do it for me if that's what it takes. Not for him, just for me. You owe me one._

_I'm sorry I won't be around for our bi weekly, secret Tuesday lunches anymore. Give Rachel a kiss and a hug from me. Take care Cuddy._

_Love always you friend,_

_Wilson._

She buried her head in her knees, deep in thought. She didn't want to subject herself to more emotional pain but she didn't want to disrespect one of her closest friend's final requests of her.

It was true, in a way she did owe Wilson. He kept her sane when House was driving her insane, he had been her confidant for years, comforting her when she believed she wouldn't have been a good mother. The least she could do was fulfill his last wish. But she didn't know if she would be be able to check on him without falling in over her head.

* * *

"Give me another round of shots."

He'd been sitting at the bar of the hotel he was staying in since he'd left her place. He had already downed four shots and was intent on getting completely shitfaced by the end of the night. He didn't know what the letter he had slipped to her from Wilson had said, be he was sure it involved him in some way.

Wilson hadn't shut up about wanting to make sure House would be okay after his death. That was all he had talked about in his final days, mentioning Cuddy at least twice a day and urging House to make amends so that he wouldn't end up alone.

The truth was he knew that regardless if he tried to make amends with Cuddy, nothing would have come of it. There was no way she would forgive him for what he did, and even if she did he knew that the most he would get from her would be her friendship. There would never be a chance of reconciliation on the romantic spectrum for them.

He sighed, grabbing the two shots the bartender had placed in front of him while he had been lost in thought and downed them, the burning sensation of the vodka warming his throat. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before pulling out his wallet and pulling out a ten, enough to pay for the five shots he'd had in the last hour.

He walked outside, growling as the cold winter air whipped at his face. He felt a shot of pain surge through his leg and pulled out his bottle of vicodin, swallowing two of the white pills. It was dark and there were remnants of snow on the ground and he hoped that he wouldn't slip and fall while he wandered through the city.

"House?"

He turned his head utterly surprised to see that she was standing just a mere ten feet from him.

She was hiding in the shadows, a purple scarf wrapped around her neck, avoiding his gaze. Her eyes were watering from the cold; she had never liked the cold and he remembered the winter they had spent together and how he had slept with her curled up beside him every night occasionally whining about the cold.

"Can we talk?"

They sat side by side on a bench in a park not far from where she had found him. The park was light up with Christmas lights, a location where they could be seen clearly by anyone who passed.

"What do you want?" He asked, getting straight to the point as to why they were currently sitting beside one another.

"I just want to make sure you're okay."

"You want to make sure I'm okay? Or Wilson wanted you to make sure I'm okay?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A little of both…" She replied, and he could tell that she was being honest with him.

"Why do you still care?"

"Why does it matter?" She rebuked, and he could see that she was getting annoyed.

"Everything matters. It's always mattered. What are you getting at Cuddy? You're just going to check on me once and then what?"

"Contrary to your belief, I still care. For some reason, I still care about you, even though you're insane, even though you are both the worst and best thing to ever happen to me."

"Everything we do is dictated by motive. There has to be some reason for you to be here sitting with me after not contacting me for almost two years, while being in contact with my closest friend."

"And what exactly was your motive House? What was your motive to destroy my life? To cause me have to pick up and relocate? To leave the job I worked so damn hard to get?"

"Why did you lie to me about not seeing anyone Cuddy? What was the motive behind that, to protect me? To protect yourself? Because it sure as hell didn't do either of us any good. You lied to me, I showed up at your house to return your hairbrush and I saw you with someone else. After you told me you weren't seeing anyone. What happened next was one of the biggest mistakes of my life, and not a day goes by I don't regret it. What was my motive? Losing you. That was my motive. I thought we still had a chance, and then I saw you with him and I lost it. I lost you for good that day, regardless of whether or not I had driven my car through your living room."

"You didn't lose me for good. If you had lost me for good, I wouldn't be crazy enough to be sitting here with you."

And that was all it took for him to reach across the table and kiss her.

* * *

Her reaction to his lips against her own after so long was instinctive. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, running across his teeth before clashing with his as it so often had done in the past. She resisted the urge to moan as she moved her hand up to his face, caressing his cheek.

A part of her didn't want to be kissing him, but the other part of her wanted to take him home with her. There was something about his touch that entranced her, no matter how upset she was with him. It had been that way in the past as well, no matter how angry she had been, the second she felt his lips against her skin, against her own, the anger dissipated. She was sure that if he had pulled her against him and kissed her the day he had driven his car through her home that she wouldn't have even bothered to call the police.

If only he knew that all it would have taken to get her back would have been a kiss.

She had never kissed him goodbye, and it was because she knew that if she had, she wouldn't have been able to end her relationship with him.

They pulled away from one another and they were both breathless. She could see her breath in the cold air.

She couldn't help but smile.

"I hate you." She muttered, caressing his cheek.

"I know you do."'

"Yet somehow I still love you. Even after everything, and how stupid and reckless you are."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"Now what?"

"Why don't we go back to my place and talk? Then we can… figure things out from there. Talk like the two grown adults we are."

"Yeah, because that'll work out so well." He scoffed, causing her to roll her eyes.

Some things never changed, but maybe others had.

* * *

_Yeah, so that's it, left on a hopeful note. :) Not a runaway fic like you asked for, but I tried! _


End file.
